


Work Song

by Carlos_Of_Night_Vale



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Creole Will Graham, F/F, F/M, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal is the Raven Stag, I make the rules which means I get a female Chilton if I want one, Louisiana Voodoo, M/M, Magical Realism, Multi, Santeria, Voodoo/Vodun, Will Graham is a Witch, Will learned Vodun in Louisiana, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29538315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carlos_Of_Night_Vale/pseuds/Carlos_Of_Night_Vale
Summary: There is deep history in the bayous of Louisiana. Will Graham knows that better than anyone.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Jimmy Price/Brian Zeller, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, implied Dr. Frederick Chilton/Will Graham
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Work Song

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm asking that you all keep in mind that I am a Black/Afro-Caribbean person who practices Haitian vodun/voodoo. Will learns about the practice, but was never formally invited/ancestrally linked to it and does not actively practice. He did, however, observe the basics of witchcraft, like herb work, intention, casting, etc.. Just want to clarify before we get too far into this.

There is deep history in the bayous of Louisiana. Will Graham knows that better than anyone.

As a child growing up in Louisiana, he'd heard rumors about the woman who lived deep in the bayou that everyone at school called a witch. They threw around that she was evil, used black magic to curse people, and could be seen at one of the St. Louis cemeteries collecting dirt from some of the graves. His father made sure he knew better than them. "She ain't never done harm to anyone who didn't do harm to someone else first," he stated gruffly when Will hopped in their old truck, armed with the rumors he heard at school that day.

"You know her?" Will asked, turning to look briefly at his father before looking back out the window.

His father nodded, "She helped us out with your mother when she started getting sick."

"Oh," Will stated blankly. 

"Yeah," there was silence before his father spoke again, "Those kids at your school probably only say those things because they hear them with their parents. People like that'll say anything about Black folks, especially women."

That was the day that Will realized that the people at school weren't raised like he was.

It was the last of the conversation for a while, at least until Will met her for the first time. He was walking their dog out in the bayou and saw a beautiful dark-skinned woman with her hair in long dreadlocks twisted up on top of her head wrapped up in a brilliantly gold scarf. She was kneeling and had a large basket over her arm. It looked to Will as though she was collecting things off the floor, examining them, and dropping them in her basket. He stopped and watched the woman for a while, wondering if this was the woman that everyone was scared of at school. As he stood there with the dog, the woman smiled and stood, still looking around at the ground, "You gon' just stand there and stare or you gon' come talk to me?"

"I'm sorry for staring," he said, looking away from her as she glanced at him.

"That's a'ight, baby. You Chris's boy?" she asked, walking towards him and the dog.

Will nodded, "Yeah. I'm will."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Will Graham. My name is Emeline," she came up to him and held her hand out to him.

He took it, "Nice to meet you, Miss Emeline."

Emeline laughed, and it sounded like windchimes to Will, "Just Emeline, Will. No need fo' no 'miss' in front of my name."

"Okay," Will said, still looking at the ground.

Emeline looked at him curiously, "You got anythin' important you doin' today?"

He shook his head.

"A'ight. If you done walkin' that dog a' yours, you go on and take him back home then come on back here. How you feel 'bout learnin' to forage?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

Emeline smiled, "Thought you would. Now go on and get that dog home an' meet me back here so we can get started." As he took off running towards home with dog in tow, she yelled after him, "Don't forget to tell you're papa that you gon' be with me for the evening!"

He didn't stop running, but threw his hand up in response. His father smiled when Will, breathless, came home babbling excitedly about Emeline and her offer. Chris nodded, and told him to be careful. Will smiled widely, eyes just below his fathers, and turned tail to run back towards Emeline. His father went back to fixing the engine of their boat, knowing that Emeline would escort Will home safely when it got dark.

Will spent every moment of his spare time with Emeline after that day.

She didn't just teach him to forage, she taught him the names, which ones could heal, which ones could hurt, and which ones were best for spells. From bush palmetto and muscadine, to salvinia and duckweed, he learned them all under Emeline's careful and gentle hands. She taught him about her religion and her craft. Most people called it voodoo, she told him, but she called it vodun. Will thought it was beautiful. The way she would grind up the herbs she dried on her walls. Emeline once took him with her to the cemetery she went to the most often, cemetery number one. She guided him carefully through the tombs and crypts to one in particular. It was marked with triple x's in red and had flowers sitting all around the door. Emeline explained that this was the tomb of the first voodoo queen in New Orleans, Marie Laveau. It fascinated Will, and he asked her all sorts of questions about her. She answered them all with the same care with which she taught him everything else. As he grew older, he practiced the craft with her, never doing quite the same thing. She had read the cards for him and asked the Lwa* if he could do what she did. She had told him that he was not meant for vodun, but that he would find his own path eventually.

Will learned everything he could from her before his father died and he was taken away from the bayou. Despite the distance, he still kept up with everything the Emeline taught him. When he could, he would make his way back to the bayou where he would spend hours with her, learning whatever he could. Eventually, he came one day and she wasn't there. She left him a note, saying that she had gone somewhere and didn't know when she would be back. He left a note in response, and would go every week to leave Emeline another letter about his life. She would respond every once in a while, but he didn't see her. The last letter he left for her at her home was just before he left for his new home in Wolf Trap, Virginia. He moved, settled in, and the first time he got his mail, there was a letter from Emeline right on top of the pile. He smiled as he read and sat down to start his response. Their letters were superficial, sharing knowledge back and forth as Will learned about the native plants and wildlife around his new home. 

It was normal, familiar, and remained that way. At least, until Will met Hannibal Lecter.

~~~~~~~~~~  
*Lwa- the Lwa (or Loa) are the main spirits that are worshiped in Haitian voodoo. The aren't actual deities, but are created by God to assist practitioners in their daily tasks 


End file.
